Anya Barton Book Five: Just One More Lie
by crossMIRAGE19
Summary: One lie can tell a thousand stories, and Anya Barton is going to found out why. Living her own identity crisis, she knows that there's no much time left until she comes face to face with Voldemort. Forgetting who you're is hard, but trying to remember why you fight is worse. Join her as she began her Fifth Year at Hogwarts, with the return of old friends and old enemies too.
1. The Beginning of the End

_We are living in desperate times__  
__These are desperate times my dear__  
__There's no way out of here__  
__There's no way out my dear__  
__I've been holding back all my tears__  
__Just so the pressure don't show__  
__Like a time bomb ticking away__  
__I might blow up some day_

_**Back to the Wall**_** – The Divinyls**

* * *

_Unknown POV_

_Knowledge is a curse that I had tried to lift on my shoulders by myself. Even when people slowly started to share its weight, I knew I was the one destined to carry it._

_So what did I do? I told a lie._

_I didn't say anything. I held the truth back, and yet, I am aware it still is a lie._

_Four simple words… and I know they can change everything._

_Simple words… they would destroy everything we ever had constructed._

_Words… they are the only thing that is holding us up on the air._

_I know is only a small lie. But one lie can tell a thousand stories._

_And I am afraid the words will tell everything I had carried on. Because I know it is going to destroy us._

* * *

_Third POV_

A small platform was placed in the middle of the vast room. Still, floating platforms were set from below up to the ceiling for the convenience of the public.

All of them were divided by three sides, and the way to distinguish them was for the color of their robes. From left to right; forest green, royal blue, and amber cloaks. Each of them had a symbol on the fabric. Forest green had teardrop shapes on the linings of the cloak; royal blue had a pentagram with wings on each side on the back; and amber wore a V with three stars on the right of the latter, the pattern repeated itself at the ends of the cloak.

In the beginning of rows of platforms was a small wooden wall, and in the same way they were all placed, the same symbols were carved on it.

Suddenly, a man broke into the principal platform. Looking on his early twenties, and wearing an amber robe, he cleared his throat. Pulling out his wand, the man muttered something, and his voice rang through all above them.

"_One, two, three – one two three – do you all hear me?!"_

He was answered by the groans and exclaims of complain from the wizards on the stands.

The man blushed.

"_Er – right, sorry_!" he cleared his throat once more, and his voice didn't sound as squeaky as it did before. "_Welcome, my fellow Wiccans! My name is Jaret Archer, Councilor of the Veritas Coven. I would say is a great honor to be here for the first time but…" _the younger man turned grim._ "We all know the reason for this meeting."_

The older wizards among the public bowed their heads while it began to arise the sounds of low mumbles.

"_Without delay, I may present you all, the Head Mages of the Covens!"_

At once, all the wizards stood from their seats.

A tall woman Apparated on the main platform. Her raven hair was extremely short, styled into a pixie cut, the blonde highlights shining almost golden because of the moon's light. She was wearing a long black sleeved dress with a leather brown corset, dark yellow fingerless gloves, and a pair of brown leather boots. On her neck, she wore a chocker with an amber locket on it. The V with three stars shone proudly on her.

"_Head Mage of Veritas, Madam Erin Carver."_

The wizards with the amber colored robes bowed as Jaret Archer did, with their right hand on fist put above their hearts. Erin Carver's golden eyes glowed for an instant, and all the Veritas Coven stands erect. With a slight nod of her head, the Head Mage went to the farther side of the platform.

"_Head Mage of Lotus, Sir Damien de Gramont."_

An old man walked up with the help of his cane, which seemed made of golden roots and in the top of the holder, was the teardrop symbol. His long silver hair was tied into a bun by a Chinese green ornament. His long robes were parchment colored and the details of ancient runes were painted with a delicate green brush. Despite the fact he was blind, de Gramont was looking at the crowd with gentle green eyes. It didn't surprise anyone to see they were a milky color.

Snapping his cane against the floor, all the green cloaked wizards stood and bowed their heads, their hands positioned as if they were praying. Two more hits of the cane on the floor and they stood erect.

Without even waiting to be called, a third figure came on the spot.

With deliberate steps, a young woman came to stand on the middle of the other mages.

When it was mentioned she was young, I mean younger than all of them. Not even twenty years old, she was less tall by head than Erin. Different from the other two, she wore a long blue coat with a black buckle on her left breast keeping it attached. Underneath it, black leggings were barely visible. Her dark brown hair was slicked back into a ponytail, curling slightly at the ends. On her neck, lay a blue medallion, a pentagram with wings carved with silver on the blue stone.

The only thing that didn't match her wardrobe was the white Sneakers tennis on her feet. Even her blue icy eyes, which darted between the other Head Mages and the Covens in nervousness, matched her choice of clothing.

Standing somewhat shyly, she took a step forward, and with her hands on her back, she bowed to the spectators. The blue cloaked coven responded in the same way.

"_And recently appointed as the Head Mage of the Night Sky Coven, I have the honor to present Miss Anya Barton."_

The Night Sky Coven relaxed their positions. Applause began to take place on the short silence that had followed her presentation.

Fifteen year old Anya Barton sighed.

"Only a few, my arse," she muttered bitterly.


	2. I prefer him as the Dungeon Bat

**TooChey, you asked how Annie looks like. Well, while I have been writing, I imagined her as Angie Vazquez until Third Year, and from the Fourth and onwards, I have been thinking of her as Barbara Palvin.**

**Dear readers, it may be a while until I update again this book, seeing as I am still re-writing the whole beginning. But a light of inspiration struck me yesterday and I wrote this all morning before I forgot. **

**Is most likely a filler chapter, but if you notice closely, I already gave ypu two hints about what is to come.**

**Review Please!**

* * *

_**Ninth Months Ago**_

_So far, this, perhaps, has to be the most awkward moment on my life_, I thought as I subtly tried to glance at the man sitting on the car seat at my right. Given the circumstances, it was probably true.

My gaze wandered through the busy streets of London. Honks blared here and there; the voices of the Londoners were carried with the wind. Today the weather was cloudy and with mist… not that it was different from the usual, actually. But today, the weather seemed to be specifically more grayish than normal. I was seriously starting to hate that color. It was very depressing.

Risking another chance, I glanced over at him one more time. I almost jumped when I saw he was staring back. I coolly masked my face into one of boredom and lazily looked at the rear-view mirror, fully aware that he was still watching me.

"Subtlety was never your forte, Miss Barton," he drawled with that voice of his. The one he used to scare his students, although it wasn't necessary with the overgrown bat appearance he had.

"You can't blame me, though," I retorted as lazily as he did, turning to meet his black eyes. "I'm still in a bit of a shock so please; spare me the lecture, sir."

Professor Severus Snape raised his eyebrows but didn't add further to the conversation.

You may wonder how I ended in this position, but honestly, I can't answer, as I don't even know myself.

The Dungeon Bat had been the person who had touched my shoulder and with a loud exclaim, I couldn't hide my surprise. What was he doing there?

Giving me a note, he briskly had said to follow him. His tone meant that it was more an order. After re-reading the note, I blindly tried to follow him through the crowd.

The silence on the car had been unbearable and awkward. It was so quiet you could actually hear a pin drop.

Tapping my fingers on my tight, I finally opened my mouth.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't glance at me.

"I mean – where are we going?"

A pause.

"To Wiccan Manor," Snape said. "Don't ask for more information. I am afraid I can't tell you while we are on the road. You'll have to ask your guardian."

And we fell into a more awkward silence.

* * *

One of the few obvious features Wiccan Manor possessed was its cheerful painting. A three –storey building, the manor resembled more of a Muggle house than what the name suggested.

Inside, it was normal as the Burrow's entrance was… if you count the high ceiling as normal. The only casualty of such a beautiful place was that it was too big for two persons – or when Tonks visited – three.

This time, I wasn't greeted by a cheerful Tonks though. In fact, there was no one else besides Snape and me. Sighing, I went up to the stairs, letting my hand grip the railing tightly as my ancestors waved at me from the maroon walls and the purple ceiling. I let myself smile a bit when I saw a little girl shoving her older brother to get a glance of me.

"Natasha will arrive later today with Nymphadora," said Snape from downstairs.

I frowned. "With who?"

He barely contained himself from sneering. "Tonks."

I pursed my lips and nodded at him. It wasn't my fault that I had forgotten what my cousin's name was when she had threatened me to not say it aloud the first time.

Walking up at the top, I finally registered that my Potions teacher was on _my_ house. Wasn't there a rule that strictly prohibited a teen to see his dreaded professor outside from school?

Half turning around, I opened my mouth to tell him to make himself comfortable but I froze when I saw him staring at the first picture down the stairs.

The moment I had entered this house, I avoided particularly _that_ frame. It was the only frame with a picture on the house that didn't respond or did something else than just move by its own accord.

Snape watched as my father made a V sign with his hand behind Natasha's head. Rolling her eyes, Picture-Natasha swatted his hand, making Alec Barton laugh. It was slightly disconcerting the way Snape seemed to be drinking from this scene, as if he were imagining himself on the moment. His black void eyes didn't seem so void; they were glistening at an alarming rate.

_Was Snape crying?_ I thought incredulous.

I realized he was on the verge of a collapse.

My hand tightened its grip on the wooden knob at such discovery.

Knowing this wasn't a moment for me to intrude, I did the wise; I turned my back on him and went right to my room on the left hall.

I had seen the most hated teacher at Hogwarts crying over a frame in which my father was. I wished I could make that image disappear altogether from my mind; it was easier to hate him as the Dungeon Bat he was than the man that had collapsed unknowingly in front of a fourteen year old girl.

* * *

It wasn't until supper time that Natasha arrived.

Thankfully, Snape seemed to be acting as his usual sneering personality. All the time, I kept throwing cautious glances at him, waiting for the moment he would collapse once more and ran out of the room. If he noticed this (I was probably too obvious), he didn't say anything.

I hadn't seen Natasha since the end of May, when the TriWizard Tournament ended. Since Mr. Dumbledore said to those people – what were their names again? – If he had their unconditional support, she had looked as if she were in her late twenties.

But right now, I could say she almost looked as Professor Remus Lupin did after his last transformation at Hogwarts. There were purple bags under her eyes, and she seemed to be holding herself upright forcedly. Her shoulders dropped tiredly as she made her way to the kitchen. Her black coat looked shriveled and used. She looked far older than she actually was.

Behind her, Tonks, my cousin, came looking nicer than her friend. Her usually colorful hair was now a shiny elegant brunette knot; even her reddish robes looked a little expensive than the usual Weird Sisters shirt she liked to wear.

Snape followed them quickly. None of them had noticed me staring from upstairs, half hidden in the shadows, half illuminated by the sunset's light coming from a circular window above my head.

Descending quietly, I heard them talking in hushed voices. One of them was angry, other sounding tired, and the final was as if it only wanted to keep peace between them.

It was very easy to tell who it was who.

Whilst I leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, I watched them as they interacted together.

Tonks was obviously awkward in Snape's presence. Why, I don't know. Although having been sorted in Hufflepuff, she was the most impulsive woman I had ever met.

Neither Natasha nor Snape didn't seem to notice her attempts of calming them; they were too much wrapped in their discussion to even look away from each other.

"It was the half-breed's fault!" Snape was hissing. I frowned at his choice of words. "He should have tightened the lash with more force!"

"It wasn't both their faults!" snapped Natasha. "If anyone is to blame, that would be me."

"_Certainly_," he stressed the word.

"What's that supposed to mean, Severus? If you have something to say, spit it out!"

"This would not have happened if you and _he_ had kept a closer watch on both."

I was more confused as the arguing went. Natasha… should have been watching me? Why for? And what's that of both?

"They are people, Severus! And young! They have a right to make mistakes," she said as if trying to find reason.

Snape though, didn't look as if he would reason at all. His mouth curled down in his trademark malicious sneer. The hand he kept on the table balled up on a fist.

"You keep forgetting, Thea," he said in a soft tone. "This are not times for them to make mistakes. If they don't be careful enough, then the Dark Lord will find about her, and when that happens –"

"_If_ that happens!" Tonks said. "Remember the _If_, please."

"Don't be foolish, Tonks!" he snapped. "Voldemort will find about this sooner or later, and if he gets a hold of her, then the Wizarding World and the life as we know is doomed."

My eyes widened.


End file.
